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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964735">Your Tears</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marigold_99/pseuds/Marigold_99'>Marigold_99</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:41:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marigold_99/pseuds/Marigold_99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter, haunted by events of the past that he blames upon himself, makes a vow that ends up wrapping both him and Draco up in a series of complicated events that neither anticipated. Will they find happiness in the end or lose themselves and each other along the way?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first ever work on ao3, I hope you enjoy! Chapters will vary in length, and I'll try to update about once a week. General warning, Harry blames himself for a lot of what has happened in his life, which is heavily emphasized. As well, canon injuries and violence from the movies and books happen, along with some other violent scenes and descriptions of blood and injuries. There is also reference to past and current abuse which may or may not be shown in the future (I'll include warnings on those chapters if I do include it). If those things make you uncomfortable, proceed with caution! Thank you :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night shone darker than it had for months, a gentle sea of obsidian lapping at the stars. Harry, seated tightly against the window, would be swallowed up by the inky void if it weren’t for the faint light of the moon washing him in blue. </p>
<p>He found the darkness comforting. It softened the light. Made it easier to look out over the slight silhouettes of the trees. Perfectly quiet, aside from the soft breathing of his dorm mates. Silence was good. It drowned out his thoughts, somehow. It meant not having to hear the screams. Every little sound held their echoes if he wasn’t careful, and the same echoes plagued his dreams every night. He couldn’t shut his eyes for fear of hearing them again. </p>
<p>First, always, was his mom. The sound was agony. He tried to forget it, but it always came back, ripping at his ears until he felt hollow. <em>Mom</em>. She gave up her life for him. He shouldn’t be alive, shouldn’t be here. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be breathing. <em>She gave up everything for me, and I’m too selfish to even enjoy my stupid life.</em></p>
<p>Next was Sirius. Just like his mother’s, it was filled with shock, disbelief that his life could be taken so soon. The bitter thought that he’d failed to protect Harry. Harry wished he could shout that it wasn’t true, that Sirius had done more than enough, that he was one of the bravest people Harry’d ever met. But it didn’t matter. Sirius was gone.</p>
<p>The two sounds, filled with emotion and pain, haunted his mind. They gripped his heart on either side and threatened to rip it right in two.</p>
<p>The final scream had only been torturing his mind for four days. It had only been four days ago when he’d heard it, after all. It wasn’t like the others. This scream was breathless, ragged. Heaving for air. This was the only scream that had already felt pain, not just anticipated it. This was the scream of death. </p>
<p>A tear rolled down his cheek as he tried to cast it out of his mind. He buried his head in his hands. It was useless; the memory was embedded into him, now. His own shriek, <em>Sectumsempra!</em> Malfoy’s eyes going white, blank. And the blood. There was so much blood. If Snape hadn’t… </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p><em>He</em> did that to Malfoy, with his own disgusting hands. He read it in that stupid book and used it the first chance he got. He didn’t even think about it. He was the cause of his mom’s and Sirius’ deaths, but not by choice, by his existence. He made the choice to attack Malfoy. Malfoy could have died, because of him. </p>
<p>
  <em>How could I have been so stupid?</em>
</p>
<p>His fingernails dug into his scalp and he tried to stop the flow of his tears. Stupid, stupid tears. He choked and gasped as quietly as he could so he didn’t wake anyone. He deserved this pain. He’d made others feel so, so much worse. Everything was all his fault. </p>
<p>And he’d wanted to make Malfoy hurt. Not just scare him, not just sting him. Really, really hurt him. Malfoy was a prick, but he- he didn’t deserve that. <em>I almost killed him. Oh god.</em></p>
<p><em>Well, I made him hurt. Happy now?</em> He’d made him hurt too much. And what if he didn’t wake up? He’d been unconscious for four days straight, now. That was too long. Far too long. Snape said he would have woken up by now, unless… Unless… </p>
<p>
  <em>Damn it.</em>
</p>
<p><em>I’m horrible.</em> He’d tried to stop the blood but it had just kept coming. He should have done more, he should have tried harder to save him or at least done something. All he’d done was scream, and cry. Malfoy’s face gasped at him from every angle of his mind. That face… Harry’d never known it could look so sad. All that usual anger was gone, replaced by genuine fear. And pain. And something else, too, something deep inside of those paling silver eyes that he could not pinpoint. Deeper than sadness, deeper than everything.</p>
<p>
  <em>Betrayal.</em>
</p>
<p>He spluttered into his hands and caught the slim, crescent light of the moon. Malfoy’s eyes had been paler than the moon.</p>
<p>Mom. <em>My fault.</em> Sirius. <em>My fault.</em> Malfoy. <em>My fault, my fault, my fault. All my fault.</em></p>
<p>He had to do something. Anything. This was one person that wasn’t yet gone. He could still save Malfoy, maybe, if he tried hard enough. Harry raised his head and searched the room with his eyes, finally spotting exactly what he needed. He slipped the invisibility cloak on, trying not to think too hard about who had given it to him, and silently snuck out of the room, down the stairs, and through the common room. </p>
<p>He couldn’t let another person go, not without a fight.</p>
<p>------------------</p>
<p>The door to the hospital wing creaked open a bit louder than Harry would have liked, but he didn’t hear anyone stir, so he continued into the room. </p>
<p>It wasn’t exactly cramped, but not exactly comfortable, either. Harry had been stuck in the wing for much longer than he would have liked in the past, and the pale walls and thin beds only reminded him of those prior ‘visits.’ A shiver crawled up his spine and he pulled his cloak tighter. </p>
<p>Most of the beds were empty, but there was one near the right corner of the room with a clear form lying beneath the sheets. Harry gulped. He stepped closer, careful not to make any creaks on the cold floor.</p>
<p>Malfoy was still unconscious. Pale blond hair, slick with sweat, splayed out over the pillow. His features were relaxed yet lined with a hint of pain that sent Harry’s nerves on edge. He was breathing shallowly, completely immobile. Harry doubted that he had moved at all in the four days he’d been receiving treatment. He stared at him, expecting him to wake up and drawl an insult that would set Harry’s blood on fire. But he just laid there. If it weren’t for the breathing, Harry would’ve thought he was dead.</p>
<p>He tried to remember the Malfoy from the past, the cruel one who only cared about himself. The boy who tormented Harry and his friends. But the boy’s usual sneer was replaced with a calm expression. Harry couldn’t count on his memory, either, because at the moment his only recollection of Malfoy’s face was the hopeless look of pain he’d had that day on the floor. Harry forced his eyes closed, burying the memory.</p>
<p>Why had he come here? What was he planning on doing? Looking down at him, he couldn’t see how he’d ever wanted to hurt Malfoy. He looked so harmless. So broken. To think that this was the same person who had been his sworn enemy for six years, it just didn’t make sense.</p>
<p>The curtains were slightly open, and his old friend the moon softly lit up Malfoy’s features. He didn’t just look harmless and the opposite of what Harry had ever known him to be, he looked perfect. Angelic. And so vulnerable.</p>
<p>Something broke in Harry’s heart. It was something deep inside, something he’d never known was there before. He stared at Malfoy until the moon set below the windowsill, wondering what he would do whenever he woke up. Apologize? Try to talk to him? He had to do something. </p>
<p>But it was almost dawn. Madame Pomfrey would be awake soon, and he wasn’t sure she’d be so forgiving for him interrupting Malfoy’s healing process. Plus, she already worried too much about Harry since he’d been hurt so many times, and the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was sick or something.</p>
<p>He pulled the cloak back over his head and let the shadows swallow him, tiptoeing out of the silent room and closing the door with a barely audible click. Only when he’d walked halfway down the hallway did he allow the tears to come. </p>
<p>Malfoy would be sleeping peacefully now if it weren’t for him. He’d have been at classes, at quidditch practice, and talking with his friends for the past days instead of lying unconscious in an infirmary. He would be safe, instead of on the edge of… on the edge of… </p>
<p>He bit his lip to stop his scream. Why did this hurt so much? He tried to tell himself that Malfoy would be fine, that soon enough he’d be back to his old, annoying self. But something was different. He’d seen his eyes, heard his pain. His wails. The quiet pleading, whimpering about his mother, clinging onto Harry’s hand for dear life. </p>
<p>That wasn’t the same person that Harry hated. It couldn’t be. Whoever Malfoy really was, it wasn’t the boy who’d been torturing him all those years. It wasn’t possible. Not when he had looked and sounded so broken. Harry needed to find out who he really was. He made a promise to himself, one that he knew he might not be able to keep. </p>
<p>He would never hurt Malfoy again. Not this much. </p>
<p>The tears continued falling, blurring his vision, and he barely managed to stumble back to his dorm. </p>
<p>Not a moment after Harry closed the door, Draco jolted awake, gasping for air. He was immediately met with the worst pain he’d ever felt, and a single tear escaped him. Visions of tears hitting his face and the sound of someone’s panicked pleading filled his mind as he collapsed, exhausted. Outside, the sun barely peeked its head out of the darkness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco came to at the sound of harsh whispers above him. He struggled to open his eyes and when he succeeded he was met with Snape and Madame Pomfrey talking to each other. His body ached all over, and his chest felt like it was on fire, making him clench his teeth at the pain. He’d just started looking around the room when Snape noticed him.</p>
<p>“Draco! You’re awake.” </p>
<p>Draco was shocked at the amount of emotion in Snape’s voice, little as it was. He hardly showed anything other than indifference or anger to anyone, Draco included. It made the hair on the back of his neck raise. Why was Snape so worried?</p>
<p>“Why am I here?”</p>
<p>“You don’t remember?” Snape asked almost incredulously.</p>
<p>Draco searched his mind, but he couldn’t remember anything except for pain. He shook his head slowly. Pomfrey rushed to his side, casting some spells that seemed to monitor his heart rate and breathing. “Memory troubles. Not good, but not surprising after something so traumatic for the poor boy.” She cast another spell, this one cooling his body and melting away some of the burning pain. “I’d give him another few days before he should be going anywhere, and that means anywhere, Severus.” Her eyes shot daggers at Snape and the professor waited until her back was turned to mumble to himself. Draco almost laughed but stopped at the pain it brought. Snape was intimidated by Pomfrey!</p>
<p>But still no one had told him anything. Draco huffed, which only made his chest hurt more. “Why am I here?” he repeated, growing frustrated. </p>
<p>“Potter,” Snape muttered, leaving Draco to figure out the rest. </p>
<p><em>Potter? What about Potter?</em> He couldn’t remember anything except for-</p>
<p>Oh. Potter. Standing over him, weeping. Why was he crying? Draco could barely hear him, only the slow beat of his own heart and his small breaths. They’d been duelling, hadn’t they? Potter had known, or at least suspected, what Draco was up to, and decided to attack him at his weakest. But Draco had fought back, hadn’t he? What did Potter do to him? </p>
<p>He scowled at the sudden pain the memory brought him. “Just say it. What happened to me?”</p>
<p>Snape sent him a disdainful glance, but Draco just ignored it, noting the uncomfortability beneath the facade. “Potter… You two got into a disagreement. The boy used a rather vicious spell on you, and that’s when I found you.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider something silently. “You lost a great deal of blood, likely could have died.”</p>
<p><em>Died?</em> Impossible. Potter and he got into disagreements, sometimes extreme ones where neither walked away without a bloodied face and body, but nothing more than that. He was just a distraction, not… Not an actual threat. Besides, no bloody gryffindor as brave and noble as Potter would ever hurt him. Snape must have been mistaken.</p>
<p>Draco tried to shift into a seating position, but suddenly let out a wail of pain. Why did everything hurt so much? He peeled away the blankets covering him and was faced with pale bandages wrapped around his entire torso. He swallowed nervously before removing those, too. </p>
<p>The cloth unraveled, and a mosaic of scars littered his entire upper body. Most were small and deep, but there was one that travelled from the base of his collar bone diagonally to the tip of his left hip. It wasn’t as deep as the others, but its sheer size made Draco lightheaded. It nearly chopped him right in half. He traced a trembling finger along the largest scar, flinching under its touch. <em>Still sensitive.</em></p>
<p>Madame Pomfrey rushed over to his side, hastily shouting more charms that caused the angry red of the scars to fade slightly into his skin. “No, no, dear. You’ll want to keep these on from now on, after I administer some more healing potions. It’s best to keep your injuries covered so they don’t get inflamed or infected.” With that, she poured a clumpy green potion onto his wounds, and requested him to open his mouth so she could pour a different (and less revolting looking) potion down his throat. The appearance of the second potion was a ruse, since it tasted vile. Draco choked on it and tried to spit it out, but it kept sliding down his throat, cloying along the bottom. He felt no immediate effects, but noted that when he shifted his weight again, the pain was much less noticeable. </p>
<p>“I don’t understand,” Draco questioned, “shouldn’t I be healed by now?”</p>
<p>She paused a moment before studying him sadly. “Magic can’t fix all injuries. Some take time, which is exactly what you are going to give it,” she warned, her face hardening again. </p>
<p>Draco was confused. Yes, of course healing takes time, but not very much with healing spells and potions. He’d only ever been sent to the Hogwarts hospital wing twice, and even though it had supposedly taken him several days to recover after the hippogriff incident - <em>which was not my fault. Those bloody creatures shouldn’t be anywhere near the school, I could have died!</em> - he’d… mainly been exaggerating for attention. She’d already used charms and potions, and that was only what he’d seen in the short time he’d been awake! Surely he should be perfectly fine by now. </p>
<p>He pushed himself up onto his feet to prove it to himself, but the pain searing through him was so sharp that he was forced to collapse back down onto the bed. <em>What is wrong with me?</em> He’d never been this heavily injured. Sure, it would hurt to move too much for a few days after his father had a go at him, but at least he <em>could</em> move. Malfoy’s weren’t supposed to be rendered weak and defenseless.</p>
<p><em>Malfoys. His father.</em> Draco stiffened. Somehow in the time he’d been out, he’d nearly forgotten… </p>
<p><em>Cabinet. Dark mark.</em> As if on cue, the hideous scar on his arm roared to life, and he nearly screamed at the fiery pain. It was so easy to not think about it… He had to hurry. His mission wasn’t going to stop because he was injured or in pain. Like Vol-- he flinched and clenched the blanket. Like the Dark Lord would care about that. He was wasting time. </p>
<p>Luckily his shirt still covered his disgusting mark. The last thing he needed was someone like Madame Pomfrey noticing it.</p>
<p>He tried again to rise to his feet, but to no avail, and this time Madame Pomfrey took notice and guided him back onto the bed. It seemed that the gunk on his torso had done its job, and as she pointed her wand at it it slowly disappeared. Where, Draco did not know, and he honestly did not care. His head fell back against the wall and he sighed in defeat. <em>If I don’t get out of here soon and fix that cabinet, he’ll kill my entire family and then he’ll kill me.</em> Draco knew exactly what the Dark Lord did to people who didn’t meet his expectations. And, yeah, Draco’s dad was an abusive bastard with anger issues and his mom usually ignored him, but he still didn’t want to see them killed.</p>
<p>Wait. How long had he been unconscious? He could still barely remember what had happened to him, and every time he thought too hard about it he got a splitting headache. He needed to get out of here already. The last thing he needed was to be locked up in the hospital wing because of Potter.<br/>
He opened his mouth to talk to Snape, but decided against it and asked Madame Pomfrey instead. “Madame Pomfrey, how long have I been here for? And how long have I been unconscious?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s been a few days. Since you woke up this morning, though, you’ve only been out for about four days. But I suppose you’ve been here for five days total, counting today. Don’t worry about it, deary, I’m sure you’ll be able to make up all of your school work. What you need now is to rest. You needn’t worry about the time you’ve missed.”</p>
<p>Draco grimaced, knowing that he did in fact need to worry about the time he was missing. It was more important than the old woman could ever know. They really weren’t going to let him out until he was at least somewhat healed, were they? </p>
<p><em>Okay. Just focus on getting better and then I can get out of here.</em> He shouldn’t be here. He should be gone, finishing that stupid cabinet so he could go on with his life and leave this place. </p>
<p>What life did he have anymore anyway? Any chance of ever becoming something was lost to him the second the Dark Lord had grabbed his arm and carved that disgusting symbol into it. His life was over, he was just a shadow of a person living inside the empty husk of one. </p>
<p>Every time he tried to stand up or sneak away, Pomfrey caught him and sent him back to his bed. It was no use trying to leave before she allowed it. He would just have to wait.</p>
<p>------------</p>
<p>News had spread quickly throughout Hogwarts that Malfoy might be okay. Snape had been seen walking out of the hospital wing, and students had noticed that he seemed slightly less miserable in classes. But that wasn’t good enough for Harry. </p>
<p>He’d tried to get back into the hospital wing, but some teacher was always posted on guard duty. It wasn’t fair. All he wanted to do was make sure that Malfoy was alright - <em>after what I did to him.</em> His eyebrows creased before he shook his head of those thoughts and brought himself back into the present. </p>
<p>Slughorn was droning on about the importance of potions in magical history. Harry’d never much enjoyed potions, and even with a new teacher he still found them uninteresting. Sure, he appreciated the application of magic and everything, but it was just too tedious for him. He would rather be using magic in the moment, not in such a slow process with so many complex parts.</p>
<p>He stared at the window longingly. If it weren’t for these annoying classes he could be outside, riding his broom, maybe. Running against the wind until his breath was nearly sucked out of him. He loved Hogwarts, and he loved his classes (for the most part), but sometimes he just wished he didn’t have so <em>many.</em> </p>
<p>Harry let out a huff in annoyance and turned back to the boring lesson. <em>Even Hermione looks uninterested! Bloody Hermione!</em></p>
<p>His mind wandered back to his fights with Malfoy. They’d been such a good outlet, letting off steam before a test, sneering, name-calling, tossing mostly harmless hexes back and forth. It hadn’t been fun, but it had been… something. </p>
<p><em>Malfoy.</em> His heart stopped for a moment. How did it always manage to catch him off guard? His fingers clenched against the desk and his leg started slightly shaking. He needed to find a way to get to him, to make sure he was alright. He of all people should be checking on him! It was his fault he was in there! </p>
<p>But he might be awake. That’s what they were saying, anyway. <em>But these are Hogwarts students! They believe anything.</em> It was true. Rumors spread like wildfires in schools, especially magic schools.</p>
<p>He gripped his quill and tried to copy down some of what Slughorn was writing, but he pushed the quill too hard and it only scraped and tore the parchment. </p>
<p>
  <em>I can’t sit here any longer, I need to do something. I have to make sure he’s okay at least-</em>
</p>
<p>Just as he was about to jump out of his seat and sprint to the hospital wing, a familiar boy with striking blond hair crept in through the door. </p>
<p>“My apologies for being late, professor.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Malfoy!</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello, and thanks for reading! I'm very excited to share the next chapter... And to continue telling this story in general! Thanks to everyone who has read this so far, I didn't think it would reach even this many people, so that's kind of cool. I hope you enjoyed :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So sorry for the late upload! I had a lot of work due last week, but I shouldn't have a problem with weekly uploads from now on :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry’s eyes bored into the back of Malfoy’s head as the blond boy sat down several rows in front of him. <em>He’s back. He’s back!</em> He couldn’t believe it. <em>I’d sworn… I thought he’d…</em></p>
<p>But there he was, right in front of him. Real. <em>Alive.</em> He’d been wrong, Malfoy had been okay the entire time. He was perfectly fine! Relief flooded through Harry at that realization. <em>He’s going to be okay.</em></p>
<p>Malfoy seemed to be completely focused on the lesson, ignoring the hushed whispers around him. Everyone was talking about him being back, no doubt. It was shocking, after so many days. But now everything would go back to normal. With Malfoy back in school, he wouldn’t have to worry about him so much.</p>
<p><em>Normal.</em>That didn’t sound quite right. Because normal meant fights, hexes, insults. That was normal for him and Malfoy. They hated each other, he… </p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t hate him anymore, though.</em>
</p>
<p>Malfoy didn’t know that, did he? <em>He must still think I hate him! I bloody near murdered him, of course he does! Everything will be so much worse now! I don’t want to fight him.. </em></p>
<p>As much as Harry enjoyed the excitement of a fight, he didn’t want to hurt Malfoy. Not anymore. Not after what he’d already done. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. <em>I can’t do it.</em></p>
<p>His attention slid back over to Malfoy, who continued to move his quill as though he didn’t have a care in the world. It was aggravating. How could he just sit there, perfectly cheerful, as though he hadn’t just almost died? As though Harry hadn’t just almost killed him? Harry scowled to himself.</p>
<p>But Malfoy didn’t look all that cheerful. It could just be because Harry couldn’t see his face, but… He was moving too stiffly, like he was stuck in place. And the longer he looked at him, Harry noticed that he seemed to just barely flinch every time he moved his arm to start a new line of writing.</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s hurt! He’s hurt and they let him out! What’s wrong with them? He could still be seriously injured, he can barely move! Not even Madame Pomfrey cares! How could she let him out when he’s obviously still in pain!</em>
</p>
<p>His frown deepened as his eyes continued to pierce Malfoy’s slouched figure. <em>I should have known something was wrong immediately, he never slouches. Bloody posture’s perfect just like the rest of him.</em> His thoughts paused for a moment, confused. <em>That was weird.</em> Why had he thought that? </p>
<p>Surely he’d only meant that Malfoy always tried to look perfect. He was too uptight, that was all. <em>I need to get more sleep.</em></p>
<p>Harry wished he could speak to Malfoy about his injuries, formally apologize for what he’d put him through. Everything would be better then. This whole accident could be forgotten, put behind them, and they’d go back to ignoring each other’s existence.</p>
<p>But they didn’t ignore each other, they attacked each other and riled each other up until they snapped. Harry couldn’t have that! <em>What’s wrong with me? Yes, I feel bad for him. And I’m sorry for what I’ve done. But I don’t have a problem with fighting him. Stop thinking that, idiot!</em></p>
<p>As much as he chastised himself, it didn’t matter. He knew that he <em>did</em> have a problem with fighting Malfoy, and that he’d be completely unable to do so if the need arose. If Malfoy threw a curse at him, he’d just lie limp and take it, if it meant not having to hurt him. </p>
<p><em>That’s not weird, is it?</em> Surely it wasn’t. He just didn’t want to be the cause of Malfoy’s pain again, that was all. <em>Nothing more to it. I’m just tired, and my thoughts are jumbling up. That’s it.</em> He hadn’t slept much… or, at all, the previous night, since he’d spent half the time staring out his window and the other half with Malfoy. His cheeks heated involuntarily. <em>Not WITH him, that sounds… weird. Just. I was just watching him, making sure he was okay! What is wrong with me today?</em></p>
<p>He sighed and tried to force his mind onto the lesson, but it was useless. No matter what he did, his mind (and eyes) kept sliding over towards Malfoy. He wondered if he should check on him before mentally reprimanding himself. It wouldn’t work, and he might just make Malfoy uncomfortable. </p>
<p>He swam deeper into his thoughts until he felt a prod and suddenly jolted back to the present. </p>
<p>“You good, mate?” Ron was staring at him in concern, but a glint of humor shone in his eyes. “Class is over. Hurry up, I’m not going to let you make me miss lunch!”</p>
<p>“What?” Harry glanced at his friend, confused. “Class just started. How is it…” He trailed off as he searched the room and realized that most of the others students and even Slughorn had left already. How had he managed to lose track of time like that?</p>
<p>The only people left in the room were Ron, Hermione, Harry, and… Malfoy. <em>What is he still doing here?</em></p>
<p>Harry’s heart sped up - <em>must be alarm</em> - and he started to stand up slowly, eyes fixed on Malfoy. <em>Maybe if I can just speak to him, just for a second -</em></p>
<p>Malfoy suddenly stiffened and launched himself out of his chair, half running out of the classroom. Harry didn’t miss how he seemed to hurt with every step, or the side glance he’d shot him while rushing past. He looked panicked, uncomfortable. Harry swallowed. <em>That’s my fault, isn’t it?</em></p>
<p>How would he ever be able to fix this? </p>
<p>“I wonder what that was about.” Hermione turned towards Harry upon saying this, studying him curiously.</p>
<p>“Who cares? Nothing Malfoy ever does makes any sense. We’re going to be late for lunch, ‘Mione!” Ron started to walk towards the door before turning to face Harry. “You coming, Harry?” </p>
<p>Harry nodded slowly and lagged behind them on the way to the grand hall. </p>
<p>“Ronald, do you really need to act this way before <em>every</em> meal?”</p>
<p>Ron stared at Hermione, incredulous. “Of course I do, it’s good food. I skipped breakfast to finish my charms assignment, and I’m bloody starving!”</p>
<p>Harry tuned out the conversation as Hermione laughed at Ron’s complaining. </p>
<p><em>What if Malfoy never speaks to me again?</em> He worried his lip between his teeth. <em>Not that he’s ever civilly spoken to me before, but still. Now I may never get that chance.</em></p>
<p>Malfoy hated him, didn’t he? But, no.. It was more than that. The way he’d looked in class was too out of place, too odd. Malfoy had always hated him, but this was different. Realization coiled in the pit of his stomach. <em>Malfoy is afraid of me!</em></p>
<p>He’d never thought words could sound so terrible. </p>
<p>
  <em>I did this to him! I hurt him! I nearly killed him! And how he hates me, he’s AFRAID of me. This never should have happened. I didn’t mean to hurt him so badly, I only wanted to defend myself!</em>
</p>
<p>Bitter excuses. Malfoy had been upset over something when Harry had hexed him. He should have left him in peace. <em>What if something had been really wrong?</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>He was crying in a bathroom, he wasn’t a threat. I’m the threat!</em>
</p>
<p>His mind tried to reason with him. <em>He’s probably a death eater, and he was planning another attack on the school. It’s Malfoy. He has no emotions. He only cares about himself. He wanted to hurt you, too.</em> But every excuse caused the back of his throat to burn even more. <em>So what if he’s a death eater? He was crying! Upset! Someone who only cares about himself wouldn’t be crying!</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>And I tried to kill him!</em>
</p>
<p>His throat constricted more with every breath. His friends were right in front of him, cheerily laughing and having fun when he was an attempted murderer! <em>I don’t deserve to be here, I don’t deserve anything! Look what I’ve done!</em></p>
<p>He opened his mouth and croaked out an excuse about forgetting his notes and ran, ignoring the confused calls behind him. He kept running, down corridors, making sure no one was following him, before diving into an empty closet. Small, dark spaces were the only places he could think properly after years of being trapped in a cupboard. He hated that stupid excuse for a room, for a home. But it was the only place he felt he deserved. <em>Trapped and away from everyone, so I can’t cause anymore pain.</em> He slid to the floor and his sobs finally escaped him. </p>
<p><em>My fault. This is all my fault. How many people have died, because of me? I don’t want people to hate me! I don’t want anyone to be afraid of me!</em> </p>
<p>He thought back to his promise to himself, how he would never let another soul hurt Malfoy as much as he had. He gasped for air at the stupidity of it all. <em>How can I protect Malfoy if the only one hurting him is me?</em></p>
<p>A bitter, choked laugh escaped him. <em>How funny is this? I’ve nearly killed someone and here I am, trying to protect them. If it weren’t for me, he’d never have been hurt in the first place.</em></p>
<p>He bit back his screams. He didn’t want anyone to hear him, to find him like this.</p>
<p>
  <em>What am I going to do?</em>
</p>
<p>----------</p>
<p>Draco wandered the halls aimlessly. He didn’t want to go to lunch. He’d seen the way people had been looking at him all day. Some were worried, but most were angry. Most people thought he should have died. </p>
<p>
  <em>It’s what I deserve, isn’t it?</em>
</p>
<p>With any luck, Potter would stay away from him. Draco didn’t like feeling weak, and Potter had seen him at his worst. He still couldn’t believe that Potter, the great savior of the wizarding world, had nearly killed him. He tried to laugh at it, but he couldn’t escape the chills climbing up his spine. <em>Everyone at this school wants me dead.</em></p>
<p>He should be working on the cabinet, fulfilling his final task to the Dark Lord. He should be being a good little servant, and not questioning his <em>master</em>’s orders. Draco cringed. </p>
<p><em>I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I guess I’ve already done that, haven’t I?</em> </p>
<p><em>Better to do what he wants than let anyone else be hurt because of me.</em> He ignored the part of his mind that told him that if he completed his mission, he <em>would</em> be letting more people be hurt. Nothing he did mattered.</p>
<p>He’d been released from the hospital wing only shortly before, but it felt like a lifetime. Madame Pomfrey had promised that his injuries would start to heal within the next few days, but he found it difficult to believe when every part of him ached and stung, especially his mark. The Dark Lord wasn’t exactly pleased at the slow progress Draco was making. </p>
<p>Suddenly he gasped and clutched at his chest. A pain flared through him, one that hurt almost as much as when he’d been sliced open a few days prior. It felt as though it was devouring his body whole. </p>
<p>He yanked up his robe and shirt and felt along his bandages, but there was no blood; his wounds were still sealed. </p>
<p><em>Then what-</em> Another wave of pain coursed through his body. It flooded his mind with despair. </p>
<p>This wasn’t his injury - this was <em>inside</em> of him. Tears seeped down his face and he collapsed onto the floor. Alien thoughts flooded his mind, parts of sentences and feelings that he couldn’t attempt to grasp. </p>
<p>Sadness. Anger. <em>I’m to blame. It’s all my fault.</em> They weren’t his emotions. They weren’t his thoughts. </p>
<p>He helplessly laid his palm over his heart, which felt like it was about to burst. </p>
<p>
  <em>What is happening to me?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco clutched at his chest. He felt like he needed to vomit, but nothing came up. </p>
<p><em>This isn’t mine. These feelings aren’t mine. What is happening?</em> He felt sick. Someone else was in his mind. Someone else’s thoughts, someone else’s emotions. </p>
<p><em>This is wrong. I shouldn’t be.. These feelings are private!</em> He covered his head with his heads, trying to force the thoughts silent, but it didn’t work. </p>
<p><em>He hates me.</em> They weren’t his thoughts, but he couldn’t block them out. They only grew louder until he couldn’t tell which thoughts were his. </p>
<p>
  <em>Everything is my fault - No! - Everyone must hate me - Stop it! - I’m only a disappointment! A mistake! - What are you saying? Stop!</em>
</p>
<p>Every thought combined into a hideous amalgamation. He screamed at the foreign ideas to stay quiet and leave his mind, but they did not listen. Draco wasn’t sure what was a creation of his own subconscious, and what was from somewhere - someone - else. He whimpered, begging internally for the voice to just <em>shut up.</em> It only grew louder, shrieking flooding every cavity of his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>He deserves better than me. Everyone does! - No! Stop! Please, it hurts, be quiet - I’m so stupid! No one cares about me, and if they do, they shouldn’t - Stop! - All I do is hurt people! What’s wrong with me? - Nothing is wrong with you, just please stop it!</em>
</p>
<p>How could someone be in this much pain? <em>And why do I need to feel it, too?</em> He wanted it to stop. He wanted them to stop. <em>It isn’t true! Stop it! You’re lying to yourself!</em></p>
<p>The voice continued yelling, until, finally, it let out one last hushed whisper that rang loudly in Draco’s ears:</p>
<p>
  <em>I deserve to die.</em>
</p>
<p>His heart stopped. It was the same sentence he’d told himself so many times over. Late in his bed when sleep eluded him; in the halls while walking to class; the bad days when tears threatened to spill. The long nights of silence after his father had gotten violent. No, he couldn’t… No one deserved to feel that way. Draco knew how hollow those words felt, that point when he finally reached the bottom of his mind’s pit, when the kinder side of his brain had run out of excuses to fight his self-hating fire. When he said those words, he meant them. It wasn’t an uncertainty or a question. It was the stating of something that his mind had long ago accepted. The thought of someone else going through that same pain… Draco couldn’t bear it.</p>
<p><em>NO!</em> He screamed it out, even though it made no sound. <em>NO! You don’t! Don’t you dare say that. Stop it. You’re lying, and you know it. You do not deserve death. You are worth so much more than you think. Please, it isn’t true!</em></p>
<p>The ringing in his head subsided. It felt like a sudden let up in an aching storm, and silence felt strange replacing the unending wail and buzz of noise. Draco swallowed, wary of the sudden change. </p>
<p><em>What?</em> The voice wasn’t his own, it was… the other one. Up until then, it hadn’t responded to any of the defying thoughts Draco had flung at it. <em>It heard me?</em> His eyes widened. <em>You heard me?</em> </p>
<p>Silence. Finally, almost tentatively, the voice spoke. <em>Hello?</em></p>
<p>Draco scrambled to sit up. He stared blankly in front of him in quiet disbelief. <em>Hello? Who… who are you? And why are you in my mind?</em> </p>
<p>The voice paused a moment before starting to answer. <em>I’m not -</em> </p>
<p>Draco’s vision blurred, swirling into a kaleidoscope of colors. His entire body tingled, stung. The world seemed to swim around him. He felt a pressure, almost as if something was being sucked out of him, then, suddenly, his vision steadied back to normal. </p>
<p>
  <em>Hello? Are you there?</em>
</p>
<p>Silence. </p>
<p>He tried again, but he knew it was no use. The voice, whoever or whatever it was, was gone. </p>
<p>
  <em>What the hell just happened to me?</em>
</p>
<p>---------</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello? Hello?</em>
</p>
<p>Again, no response. Harry sighed and rested his head back against the wall. He felt empty, and on top of that he couldn’t understand what exactly had just happened. </p>
<p>He’d been able to hear someone’s voice - <em>thoughts?</em> - in his own head. <em>And with what they said, they heard me, too.</em> He stiffened. Just how much did they hear? His thoughts, especially those ones, were private. Now someone, some random person who he probably didn’t even know, had heard them! What if they told everyone? It would be so embarrassing. Everyone would make fun of him just like they used to, before Hogwarts. Back at the bottom of the metaphorical food chain.</p>
<p><em>Maybe they don’t know who I am, either. They did ask.</em> But Harry wasn’t sure what that would mean. Sure, he’d be free of the possibility of blackmail or the awkward conversations with someone who could hear his every thought, but that was almost worse, in a way. If they really were some random person, why could he hear their thoughts? </p>
<p>Although… As much as he hated to admit it, it was kind of interesting. Telepathy shouldn’t even be possible, but he’d done it. That was somewhat incredible. </p>
<p><em>Or, there’s the possibility that I’m just imagining it. Nothing really happened, it’s all in my head.</em> It made more sense. Mind to mind communication was impossible. Sure, it happened in some stories, but that was fiction. Not real things that actually happened to people. </p>
<p>And if it was really happening, what if it was just him? Everyone else thought - <em>knows</em> - that telepathy was impossible. If anyone found out about it… <em>I don’t need another reason for everyone to hate me. I’m already enough of a freak.</em> </p>
<p>He took a deep breath to steady his racing heart, before slowly getting up from the floor and dusting his robes off. <em>Just stop. It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.</em> The bell hadn’t yet sounded to end lunch or start divination (which he sincerely wished he didn’t have to attend), but he most likely didn’t have much longer. He wiped any stray tears from his face and played with his hair until it was a semi-manageable mess. Hopefully no one would be able to tell that he had been crying. </p>
<p>There seemed to be no sound of anyone around, so Harry quietly slipped out of the closet and into the hall. He ran through the corridors even though he had no clue as to where he was going. He just needed to move. <em>I need to do something about this, and I need to know what just happened.</em> But he knew he couldn’t search by himself, he was awful at researching. He would need help. But from who? It would have to be someone he trusted, someone who was good at problem solving, and someone who knew their way around a book. </p>
<p>A hint of a smile crossed his face. He knew exactly who he would ask. Although the great hall was the last place he wanted to be at the moment, he didn’t have much of a choice. </p>
<p>He needed to find Hermione.</p>
<p>--------------</p>
<p>Draco wandered aimlessly through the halls. He hardly felt like eating for fear of further irritating his healing injuries, so he decided to skip lunch in favor of solitude. Even though walking wasn’t much easier on his body, he couldn’t keep still if he wanted to. He needed time to think about what in Merlin’s name had just happened to him. </p>
<p>As much as he would love to disregard the whole ordeal as his mind playing tricks on him, he knew it was impossible. That had been too real, too <em>much</em>, for his brain to have created. It wasn’t the most unlikely thing in the world, either. Mind to mind communication was uncommon, but not impossible. It had many recorded cases in wizard history. The problem is, it’s incredibly powerful magic. Who would be able to perform something that skilled? And the person who had attacked his mind hadn’t even seemed to know what they were doing. Draco had never heard of <em>accidental</em> telepathy. </p>
<p>The other issue was that he had no idea who that person had been. Although he could tell that their presence in his mind was gone - <em>mainly because they were extremely loud, and I’d be able to hear their screaming now if they were still here</em> - they could come back at any moment. If it was purely accidental, that was even worse. They would have no control over when they could get into or out of his mind. If they found out about his mission <em>that I’m still putting off</em>, they could tell the entire school. He would be exposed for the disgusting creature that he was, and be expelled, imprisoned, and probably killed. He almost smiled at that thought. <em>Let them kill me before the Dark Lord can. I’m sure I’d much prefer that death to one caused by Him.</em></p>
<p><em>Maybe if they can communicate with me, I can communicate with them. But where would I even start?</em> He had no idea how to communicate using only his mind, and he didn’t even know where to start researching. Sure, he had heard of telepathy being used in history, but he had no idea how to actually use it himself. </p>
<p><em>Would they even want to talk to me again? The last time I… heard them, they weren’t doing very well. They probably won’t ever want to speak to me after what I heard.</em> Whether he liked it or not, he would simply have to wait for the other person to communicate with him again, at least until he could figure out how to do it himself. <em>That might take forever.</em> </p>
<p>He paused in his slow walk as he heard footsteps around the corner. He slipped behind a statue so he wouldn’t be seen. The footsteps became louder and louder until someone with jet black hair bolted down the hall in front of him. </p>
<p><em>Potter?</em> Why wasn’t he at lunch? And where was he going, running so fast? Draco didn’t particularly want to be around Potter, especially after what the boy-wonder had done to him, but he was curious. </p>
<p>He waited a few more seconds before silently following Potter down the hall. Whatever he was doing, Draco would figure it out. <em>You’re not getting away from me this time, Potter.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, that's the end of another chapter! I hope you enjoyed this one. Things are going to start picking up from here! As always, thank you for reading :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for another late chapter. I've decided that chapters will stick to coming out weekly if I'm able to meet the deadline, but if I can't, release dates will vary. So, if a chapter is a bit late don't worry! I'm not giving up the story or anything, I've just been a bit busy recently. But school is almost over :) As always I hope you enjoy this chapter! Seeds have been planted, now it's time to let them grow.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Classrooms blurred past Harry as he half ran through pathways. He was grinning like an idiot, his prior breakdown (almost) forgotten. Harry enjoyed a mystery more than practically anything else, and a mysterious voice, a mysterious <em>communication with someone,</em> in his mind was just another mystery waiting to be solved. The more time that elapsed as he sped through the halls, the more exciting the prospect became. He wanted to forget the absurdity of it, forget the potential backlash, and continue running forever, temporarily delighted at uncertain possibilities.</p>
<p>The moment ended too soon as he approached the great hall. As he started to slow, his fears and insecurities caught back up to him, flooding him with apprehension and, greater than anything else, guilt. He sucked in air and pushed his emotions down. <em>I’m here for Hermione, to figure out what just happened. I don’t need to think about anything else now. Stop.</em></p>
<p>He realized quickly that speaking to Hermione would be trickier than he had thought. Ron, Hermione, and he usually sat relatively towards the center of the gryffindor table, which meant he would have to venture far into the hall to reach her. Normally he would be fine with that, but he didn’t want anyone to see him in his… state, just in case it was noticeable. He couldn’t see another way of speaking to her that didn’t involve being seen. </p>
<p>He crept closer to the entrance of the hall, making sure to keep close to one side so he wasn’t seen. <em>What could I possibly do? I can’t signal to her in any way…</em> His eyes widened. <em>Or, maybe I can.</em> </p>
<p><em>Surely there’ll be something I have on me?</em> He rummaged through his pockets before pulling out half of a torn paper with a few hasty notes scrawled on it. He ripped it as silently as possible <em>(even though it’s not like anyone would hear me. The great hall is too loud to hear anything this quiet)</em> so it was free of all writing, pulled out his quill, and wrote a quick message to her.</p>
<p><em>Now the only issue is getting it to her..</em> He knew he would charm it somehow, but he wasn’t sure which would work the best. It had to be somewhat subtle, but also something that she would notice. A tiny smile started to form on his face as he remembered a charm from several years ago. <em>Thank you, Malfoy and your stupid pranks, for helping me out here.</em> He ignored the discomfort thinking of Malfoy brought him as he folded up a small paper bird. A whisper of an incantation had it fluttering first along the ground, then behind the gryffindor table until it landed quietly beside Hermione’s plate. </p>
<p><em>Yes!</em> She seemed to notice it and as she opened it she glanced around in confusion. Harry ducked out of sight of the other students, hoping she would listen to his message and come into the hall. A few moments went by before he heard footsteps. The second Hermione turned the corner, he grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the hall and towards the library.</p>
<p>“Harry! What are you doing?” </p>
<p>Harry continued running with her in tow. “Hermione,” he called, “trust me! This is important.”</p>
<p>Corridors fuzzed by until the library stood before them. <em>Hopefully no one is in here…</em> He guided her to a secluded table and collapsed into a seat. </p>
<p>“The library? This is where you needed to go so badly? But you hate studying!” Her eyes widened and she shook her head, shooting him a dirty glance. “Harry James Potter, if you dragged me all the way over here just to get me to do your charms assignment for you, I swear-”</p>
<p>“No! No no no Hermione this is important!” Her judgemental look didn’t budge. “I promise! C’mon Hermione I need your help!” </p>
<p>She sighed and settled into a chair across from him. “Fine, I’ll help you. What do you want anyway? It’s the middle of lunch, Harry.” </p>
<p>“Yes, I know. But something very… interesting? Or bad? Just happened to me…”</p>
<p>--------------</p>
<p>Draco slunk around corners after the pair in front of him. <em>Does Potter ever stop running?</em> He panted for a moment as he caught his breath before continuing to follow them. </p>
<p><em>Are they going to the library?</em> He recognized the turns they took since he knew these corridors well. He had walked the route to the school’s library so many times that he could walk it in his sleep, or blindfolded. <em>What is Potter doing there?</em> He searched around him for a way to get closer to them without being seen. <em>The library is too open, but I need to hear what he’s saying. I don’t know why I need to, but I do. Something is up, I can feel it.</em> Draco eyed a small, solid desk at the entrance to the library and dove behind it as soon as Potter walked to one of the back tables.</p>
<p>It was difficult to make out any words they said from the distance, but Draco leaned in slightly and was able to grasp a few phrases. </p>
<p>“I’m telling you…. real!” <em>Potter, definitely.</em> </p>
<p>“Harry… serious… not possible.” Draco sneered. <em>Must be Granger.</em></p>
<p>“No, it was! …. voice… mind.” <em>Huh? What the hell is he talking about? And why does it sound so familiar…</em> </p>
<p>Draco leaned further forward to try and hear them better, not paying attention to where he was putting his hands. He fell forwards, a drawer he’d been accidentally holding onto slamming out and its contents flooding the room. <em>Oh no.</em> </p>
<p>He shot up and sprinted out of the library as quickly as possible, hoping they didn’t see him. His scars ached at the sudden movement, and his accelerated heartbeat made the mark on his arm sting. <em>Well, there goes my chance… If they saw me, I’m dead. Who knows what Potter will do to me? I need to get out of here.</em></p>
<p>---------------</p>
<p>Harry stared, confused, at the pile of papers now lying on the ground. <em>That can’t have… Could it have been? Am I just seeing things?</em> He could have sworn he had seen a tall lanky body and a familiar head of ivory hair. <em>But… What was Malfoy doing here? Was he… spying on me?</em> His face heated up involuntarily and he shook his thoughts away. <em>I’m sure it was something else. I’m just misunderstanding…</em> </p>
<p>“Harry! Hello? Are you going to help me pick up these papers?” Hermione was standing in front of him with a concerned look fixed on her face. <em>I must have zoned out…</em> “I have no idea why someone would make such a big mess and then run away before cleaning it up,” she continued. “It’s ridiculous.” A frown flickered across her face before she quickly walked over to the pile. “It’s fine, we can clean it up without too much of an issue.”</p>
<p>He followed her, picking up the papers one by one and placing them back in the drawer. He stopped when he saw Hermione staring at him. </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Harry… Wands?” She levitated half of the papers into the air and let them float down into the drawer. </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh. That’s much easier, isn’t it? How did I forget to use magic?</em>
</p>
<p>“Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange for the last few days. I understand if you feel confused right now, after everything you just told me about, but this has been going on for longer than that.”</p>
<p>He bit his tongue and shifted his gaze back to the papers, pulling out his wand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just been tired.” People being worried about him always made him uncomfortable. Too much attention and false sympathy… even from his friends, it made him squirm.</p>
<p>“... Alright.” She didn’t sound convinced, but Harry continued talking so she wouldn’t be able to question him again.</p>
<p>“So, what do you think I should do? About what I said earlier?”</p>
<p>Hermione sighed as she closed the drawer and headed back towards their table. “Well, I’m not really sure. I’m sorry, Harry, but I’ve never heard of this happening before. We’re going to have to do a lot of research to figure this out.” </p>
<p>“Alright! So, let’s do it.”</p>
<p>She laughed. “Divination starts in a few minutes. We don’t have time right now. But I can meet you after school ONLY if you promise to help with the research.”</p>
<p>“What? Of course I’ll help!” Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “I will. Promise. Is Ron meeting us there?”</p>
<p>“Well, I told him I’d only be a few minutes when I left to find you, so he’s probably still waiting for me. We’ll have to fill him in after class, hopefully he’ll go without me.”</p>
<p>Harry nodded and the two walked through the halls to divination. </p>
<p>
  <em>Hopefully I’m able to figure everything out soon. I just wish I knew what was going on.</em>
</p>
<p>His thoughts wandered back to earlier. <em>Why was Malfoy spying on me? If he even was…</em> It didn’t make sense. He had probably just been walking into the library at the same time as them, and he accidentally made the papers fall. <em>But then why did he run?</em> Maybe he hadn’t even seen him properly, and it was just some random clumsy student. Harry ignored the part of his brain protesting, saying that <em>that was his exact hair, his exact body shape,</em> which he didn’t know how he could have recognized in such a short amount of time. <em>I hardly pay any attention to Malfoy anyway. I was just imagining things. There’s no way I could have correctly identified him in, like, a second.</em> But he had been staring at Malfoy for years. He knew his every mannerism and reaction from all of their duelling, and he had learned to recognize him across crowds. His heart started to drum a steady fast-paced rhythm. </p>
<p><em>No, that’s… I’m just imagining things. It wasn’t him. I can’t recognize him that well. Stop being weird, brain.</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>I just need to stop overthinking. Just, stop freaking out over nothing. It was a coincidence. It was nothing, an accident.</em>
</p>
<p>He continued walking to class, but his nerves wouldn’t settle, and his heart refused to slow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I’m such an imbecile!</em>
</p>
<p>Classes were over for the day, yet Draco couldn’t seem to focus on anything. He tried starting his potions assignment (which he barely understood since he had missed most of the lesson from showing up late and being distracted by his injuries and <em>Potter</em> the entire time) but to no avail; his brain kept going back to stupid Potter.</p>
<p><em>He saw me. I know he did!</em> He’d never had the best or even a civil relationship with Potter, and this would only make it worse. <em>He’s already cursed me once, he’ll do it again! And he’s onto me. He knows about the cabinet, he knows I’m a death eater, and he knows I was spying on him!</em> Draco fell onto his bed in exasperation. </p>
<p>
  <em>I’m a death eater. I’m probably going to die in a few weeks if I don’t get my act together and complete my tasks, but all I can think about is that idiot gryffindor! Who cares if he hates me? Who cares if he attacks me! I’m dead either way. He’s just a nuisance. I don’t care about anything involving him at all.</em>
</p>
<p>His brain focused, for a few, short seconds, on the potions lesson from today, desperately attempting to recount what little he had absorbed. <em>Alright. So. Uses of different herbs, I know all of this stuff already!</em> He recounted the differences between different roots. <em>Right. The red variation is completely harmless, but the black roots - roughly the same color as his idiot hair - become toxic if you cut them with a sharp enough knife - probably like the one he is going to attack me with - so only use the red ones.</em> He paused. <em>Or were the red ones the toxic ones?</em></p>
<p>It was no use. His brain was running too quickly to process anything, and anything he did end up processing just found a way to relate back to Potter! <em>What am I going to do..</em></p>
<p>He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about him so much. <em>I’ve never been this scared of him before!</em> But before, Potter had never been a real threat. <em>And now…</em> </p>
<p>His eyes squeezed shut and he lightly pushed the backs of his hands over them. <em>But is it even fear?</em> Draco had been truly afraid before. This felt similar, but not the same. Apprehension, but not terror. Potter wasn’t a threat like the - like the Dark Lord, or like Draco’s father. He wasn’t terrifying, or even scary. <em>So why do I feel so odd around him all the time?</em> He sighed. <em>I suppose it must just be confusion, apprehension. Something like that. Concern, but not real fear. And… something else.</em> His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling above him. <em>Something…</em> He didn’t want to think through the possibilities of what that <em>something</em> could be. </p>
<p><em>I need air. I just need to clear my head, that’s all.</em> He knew exactly where to go. </p>
<p>----------</p>
<p>Harry paced the corridor restlessly. Ron and Hermione were meant to meet him there 10 minutes ago, but they hadn’t shown up. He wanted to try and figure out more about his… situation, plus fill Ron in on everything that they knew so far. Hopefully Hermione had been able to think of something since he had spoken to her at lunch. It was a slim chance, though, since she wouldn’t have been able to visit the library again. </p>
<p>It was too much to figure out by himself. He had to train to face Voldemort in case there was another attack - <em>which seems to be a yearly occurrence at this point</em> -, try to connect the pieces and find out who the death eater(s) hiding out in the school were, figure out how all of that was connected to Malfoy, at the same time <em>apologize</em> to Malfoy for almost killing him, and also figure out who was getting into his head and how. And, on top of all of that, he had to go to classes like normal, like everything was fine. </p>
<p>Had things ever been fine? There was always something new he needed to anticipate, or face, or defeat. He just wanted to be a normal kid. Well, a normal <em>wizard</em> kid. Everyone treated him like he was either messed up or special. He hadn’t had one year to just enjoy himself in his entire life. </p>
<p>But it felt selfish to want normalcy. He’d been able to help so many people only <em>because</em> he was different. </p>
<p><em>And how many more have I hurt for that exact same reason?</em> </p>
<p>This new development, this random magical mind communication thing that was happening to him, it was just a distraction. Something new to latch onto so he didn’t fall into the chasm of his memories and thoughts. He’d been running for so long. If he slowed down, even a little bit, he’d be caught and crushed beneath his mind. This new mystery was just another goal, an idea that maybe, <em>maybe</em> when he reached this one everything would be over and he could live a normal, peaceful life. But he knew it didn’t work like that, and he’d be lucky if he could keep running from one thing to the next forever, so nothing ever caught up with him. </p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve been fine. Everything has been okay. What’s wrong with me?</em>
</p>
<p>He knew he hadn’t been. It was just a lie to keep himself sane. Everything had been piling up inside him for so long that even a second to himself brought it all tumbling down upon him. <em>Even just 10 minutes waiting for my friends to get here.</em> Time was ticking. The day was almost over, and in a few hours Harry would have to head to sleep. What would he do without any more distractions? He hadn’t slept at all last night, and his last proper sleep hadn’t been for a few weeks. Exhaustion was weighing upon his body. It would be easy to succumb and get the rest he needed, but he couldn’t. Closing his eyes for too long meant seeing the pain and hearing the voices of everyone he’d hurt. He couldn’t find refuge in his dreams, either, since they always showed the same hideous sights that his brain pushed upon him. Death. Destruction. Pain. <em>Everything, my fault.</em></p>
<p>Walls blurred around him. It felt like he was falling, like a huge chasm opened up in the ground below him and sucked him in. <em>Please, someone, get me out-</em></p>
<p>“Harry?” The voice from around the corner pulled him out of his abyss. </p>
<p>“I’ve no idea why he’d make us come all the way over here into this creepy corner just to talk! Don’t look at me like that, ‘Mione, there’s spiders!”</p>
<p>“Ronald, you’ve faced worse. I hardly think--” The voices grew louder until his two best friends rounded the corner. “Oh! There you are, Harry!”</p>
<p>The darkness framing his vision dissipated, leaving him standing on level ground. </p>
<p>“Sorry it took so long, mate. We ran into Luna on the way here, plus we got a little lost after that. There are surprisingly a lot more dark corners in this school than you’d think!”</p>
<p>Harry blinked, still steadying himself back into reality. It had been awhile since he’d last seen the blonde girl, and he felt a slight stab of guilt at that fact. He missed her, it just became more and more difficult to speak to his friends. He knew she wouldn’t blame him, but he still felt bad. <em>I’ll have to see her soon to make up for it.</em></p>
<p>“So,” Ron started, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, “why did you call us down here?” </p>
<p>Harry drew in a breath, attempting to organize his thoughts so he could be able to speak. His heart started drumming faster, this time not out of panic, but excitement. Being able to see his friends without imminent danger for once was a pleasant change. Things were still awkward between all of them, and he mentally cursed himself for calling on Hermione so suddenly earlier in case it made her feel even more awkward. But this was at least a start. <em>I haven’t exactly been very forthcoming with information recently… Do they even know about what I did to Malfoy?</em></p>
<p>That night he’d been so wrapped up in shock that he had just stumbled back to his dorm and collapsed. Usually he cried on the shoulder of one of his friends, but he was used to bottling it up. This time in particular it had felt too bothersome to worry them about, and too… personal. <em>How many times recently have I shut them out when I’ve been upset instead of letting them in?</em> This was a chance to change. Maybe everything would be better if they focused on doing something together, especially something interesting and not deadly for once. </p>
<p>He smiled sheepishly and went through the whole tale, leaving out as many details about how upset he had been as he could. According to Ron and Hermione, he had just been having a bad day and got a little bit sad about some things, and then suddenly a voice was in his head. It wasn’t really a lie. He just felt embarrassed to tell them the full truth.</p>
<p>Hermione listened to the recount with interest even though she’d already heard it from him earlier. Ron looked confused, then interested, then excited at the potential for a new magical mystery to solve. </p>
<p>Hermione’s eyes started to widen and she explained an idea she had just gotten. All three of them rushed to the library to research and test out her theory, and Harry felt that maybe, just for a moment, everything might be okay. </p>
<p>-------------</p>
<p>Draco weaved through the shadows of the dungeons, careful not to make a sound. This part of the castle was always dark enough to hide him, so he didn’t need to worry about being seen. He paused for a moment at the sound of footsteps. They faded away around a bend and he continued forwards.</p>
<p>Although he could never be familiar with every corner of the castle, he’d been hiding from others for long enough that he had stumbled upon some interesting areas. Hogwarts had a funny way of revealing only what it wanted you to see, and it would actively hide any part of itself that you were seeking out. The trick was to let your intentions be known, and, instead of hastily searching for secret corridors or passageways, to allow them to find you. </p>
<p>One corridor in particular was his favorite. There was a painting in the dungeons, a “still-life”, as Muggles called it, of half-spoiled fruit, that acted as a gateway to his secret hideout. If you tapped the orange on the painting, the next time you touched the painting your hand would melt completely through it. The canvas would reform behind you once you’d fully stepped inside of it. When he’d first discovered it, he fell straight through and bruised his nose. </p>
<p>At first, it seemed to lead into a normal corridor of the school, but the further into it you walked, the more your surroundings began to change, until eventually you were standing in a tree-ringed hollow somewhere along the school grounds. He’d tried to find the same place by walking around the outside of the castle, but it was never there. It seemed to only appear when you walked through the painting. </p>
<p>It was his favorite place to hide. Sometimes he went there when he needed to study for OWLs, sometimes to practice magic, and sometimes just because he needed a place to think. </p>
<p>He sat at the base of his favorite tree and leaned back. But the normally comforting atmosphere of the hollow only made him feel worse, until cold tears were blurring his vision. </p>
<p><em>What’s wrong with me? Why am I crying?</em> </p>
<p><em>Maybe it’s the same as before. Someone else’s emotions are taking control of me.</em> He tried to blink away the tears, but they kept coming. The only thoughts in his mind were his own. </p>
<p><em>Oh. These aren’t someone else’s emotions, they’re mine.</em> </p>
<p>He rested his head on his knees and sobbed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey there! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Thank you so much for reading, and have a nice day! Hopefully these two will start to figure things out soon, but no promises... Next chapter will be out in about a week</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So,” Harry started, “what exactly are you thinking, Hermione?”</p>
<p>The witch was buried in about 3 books at the same time, frantically flipping pages. Ron sat down next to Harry and shrugged. “‘Mione will figure it out.” </p>
<p>Harry sighed and consigned to sit somewhat patiently while she finished collecting her thoughts. Apparently his body hadn’t gotten the memo as his foot tapped relentlessly against the ground. He attempted to still it and looked for something to distract him. </p>
<p><em>I can’t do anything about it. I’m so distracted, what’s wrong with me?</em> He needed to be in motion. Waiting around like this without something captivating enough for him to stay in the moment meant losing himself. His foot continued to shake as his mind spun deeper into itself, into the parts of it that he didn’t want to face, especially not then. </p>
<p><em>I’m so stupid. Such an idiot.</em> He tried to stop himself from overflowing, but the more time elapsed without doing anything, the worse it became. <em>There’s people I should be saving, and I’m trying to figure out some stupid thing that I’m probably just imagining? I could be training. I could be doing something. What if Voldemort attacks? I’m completely unprepared, the students are completely unprepared, and all I’m doing is sitting around doing nothing, just letting it happen.</em></p>
<p>His eyes were fixed on the ground before him. He couldn’t move. The ground flickered, turning to stone. <em>No.</em> Pillars towered around him, sucking him in, trapping him. <em>Not here. Not now.</em> A familiar laugh echoed across the walls, and he didn’t need to turn around to know what he would see. He tried to stop himself, but his body moved of its own accord. There, behind him, stood Sirius, Bellatrix’s wand aimed directly at him. Harry tried to run towards him, but his legs were frozen in place. He couldn’t move his head as he watched Sirius’ life fade out of him. Before he could scream, he was gone. </p>
<p>He fell through the floor, his voice echoing around him as he was plunged into darkness. Wind surrounded him, tossing him mercilessly through the void. Suddenly he collided into a hard surface. <em>Ow.</em> He struggled into a sitting position and glanced around to see bathroom walls growing out of the ground around him and a cold tile floor beneath him. <em>Where am I now?</em> His limbs stung from the fall and he twisted each part of his body to make sure nothing was heavily injured. </p>
<p><em>I was in the library. I was… with Ron and Hermione. And then what happened?</em> Static filled his mind, swirling him in and out of consciousness. <em>Sirius.</em> His eyes widened as his memories clicked into place. <em>This isn’t just a normal bathroom…</em></p>
<p><em>Malfoy. I need to find him.</em> </p>
<p>Harry shot up in search of Malfoy. <em>He’s here. He has to be.</em> He shook his head clear of the fuzz blocking his brain. <em>And he’s hurt.</em> Wind howled around him, battering the walls and making him shiver in the cold. <em>I couldn’t help Sirius, but maybe I can help him. This isn’t real. I can change what happened. Maybe, if I fix it this time, I’ll be able to get out of this illusion.</em></p>
<p>“Hello?” The soft, strained whisper came from across the room. Harry turned at the familiar sound and struggled against the wind towards it. </p>
<p>“Hello? Who’s there?” he called out, but he heard nothing in reply. He flicked his head around, but there was nobody. <em>What is going on? This isn’t how that day went, this isn’t what happened…</em> Then, across the room, he saw it: a stone pedestal raising out of the ground. Someone was on top of it. <em>Malfoy. It has to be Malfoy.</em> </p>
<p>“Is someone… can you help me?” The same voice echoed across the room, and this time Harry flinched in recognition. <em>That’s Malfoy’s voice, but not his normal one…</em> It was the same injured voice Harry remembered from the night all of this <em>actually</em> happened. The real curse. The real pain, the real fear. The static in his mind roared to life. Outside, the wind shrieked. <em>I need to get to him.</em></p>
<p>Every step he took through the bathroom, the walls seemed to grow away from him. He didn’t seem to move at all no matter how far he travelled. His strides grew as the walls slid further away from his grasp, taking the pedestal and Malfoy with them. </p>
<p>“Please, I’m trying to get to you!” he shouted. “Can you move at all?” He was met with silence and he pushed himself to run faster. <em>I’m running out of time!</em></p>
<p>Wind outside of the room crashed against the walls, bashing them until they started to crumble away. He moved faster and faster as debris rained down upon him, coating him with dust. <em>No! I’m almost there!</em> One of the walls broke away from the structure and flew away. <em>I need to move faster!</em> Another wall smashed and one of the stalls was torn apart next to him. </p>
<p>And then the wind started to attack the tower. <em>NO! Malfoy’s up there!</em></p>
<p>Harry pushed forward. <em>I’m not going to let him die!</em></p>
<p><em>This isn’t real! Just wake up! You don’t need to do anything, it’s all fake!</em> The pedestal started to crack under the assault. <em>But what if it isn’t fake? This whole place is coming down.</em> A rumbling echoed through the hall and he turned to see half of the wall behind him crash down only a few feet away. Wind lashed at him, pushing him backwards, away from Malfoy. But he couldn’t allow that to happen. <em>I need to save him.</em> </p>
<p>He ran until he stood at the foot of the towering pedestal. Suddenly, he realized he had no options. The tower was falling. He had no chance of scaling it before it collapsed, and there was no other way to safely lower Malfoy. Stone groaned above him and the first pieces of the tower shattered as they hit the ground. <em>Fuck!</em> Harry scrambled to catch Malfoy as he tumbled from the disintegrating pillar, and the boy landed in his arms heavily. </p>
<p>He stared at Malfoy, noticing his dirt coated hair and crumpled body. <em>Please, be okay.</em> “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Are you okay?”</p>
<p>Malfoy’s eyes opened slowly and he coughed dust out of his lungs. “What-”</p>
<p>The floor caved underneath them, cutting Malfoy off. Wind tore at him, raking his body and pulling Malfoy out of his arms. Darkness devoured him greedily. </p>
<p>
  <em>I’m alone.</em>
</p>
<p>“Harry!” a voice called. He startled and scanned the darkness for the source, but no one was there. </p>
<p>“Harry! Harry, are you listening?” His eyes blinked open and he was back in the library. Hermione glared at him in disapproval. <em>What just… happened to me?</em></p>
<p>The witch shook her head pointedly. “See, I told you, Ronald. Harry, could you try paying attention?” Her voice softened as she met his gaze. “Are you alright? You haven’t been sleeping properly, have you?”</p>
<p>Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. <em>What was that?</em> He’d had hallucinations before - small, fleeting visions, usually pertaining to Voldemort - but none had been even close to that. Not even his flashbacks were that intense, that <em>present.</em> It felt like he was actually there, like he was actually witnessing… everything that had happened. If he hadn’t done something, it felt like Malfoy would actually slip away. <em>And what happened with Malfoy anyway? In reality I cursed him. There was no wind, no pedestal, no nothing… Right? It was me. I hurt him. I need to take accountability for that. It wasn’t anyone else but me.</em></p>
<p>He tried to steady himself through his breathing, focusing on each breath separately and drawing it out like Hermione had taught him years ago to calm his panic attacks, but it didn’t work. <em>And Sirius… No, it wasn’t real. I wasn’t actually back there. He already… he already died. I couldn’t have done anything, I couldn’t have…</em></p>
<p>The room started swaying, crumbling like the bathroom had under the pressure of the whirlwinds surrounding it. <em>I’m going to fall. I’m going to fall and be back in that void, be back to Sirius’ death, be back to the bathroom where I almost killed Malfoy…</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>Everything is ruined, because of me. It’s all my fault. If I had just tried a little bit harder to fix things--</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello?</em>
</p>
<p>“Harry, Harry? You good, mate?” Wood floors raised back into place beneath him and the cracks in his vision healed. Ron and Hermione stared at him in worry, but he couldn’t focus on that. <em>That voice… I heard someone say hello. I know I did. It’s that voice, that presence from before.</em> </p>
<p>“We’re really worried about you, Harry. You called us down here yourself, but you won’t talk to us, and you seem distracted.” Hermione’s voice was edged with concern as she spoke, but he stopped her before she could continue. </p>
<p>“I heard it,” he whispered, barely audible even in the quiet of the library. </p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” </p>
<p>“I heard the voice! I heard it again!” He pushed the terror and unease from his hallucination down. <em>I need to stop thinking about those things. Focus on this person.</em></p>
<p><em>Hello? I heard you, I think. Are you still there?</em> </p>
<p>“Really?” Hermione started. “Can you hold onto it somehow, try and communicate with them?” </p>
<p>“Do you know who it is?” Ron chimed in. </p>
<p>“I… don’t know. I heard them talking, but then it stopped.”</p>
<p>Hermione thought for a moment before pulling out, somehow, yet another book. “Actually, that somewhat follows my theory. Apparently mind to mind communication does have recorded history in the wizarding world. It isn’t a common occurrence, but it can happen. I don’t know for sure, but if I’m analyzing these stories correctly, it seems to only happen during periods of heightened emotions. Somehow the brains of the two people are connected, but the connection can only activate when the mind is experiencing extreme emotional intensity. So, I guess what I’m asking is have you been feeling… extreme emotions in any way?”</p>
<p>He froze. <em>Why did it have to be that?</em> He hadn’t been entirely honest with his friends at that time, and he didn’t want to start then. <em>If I tell them what’s wrong, they’ll only pity me.</em> Even if they had been there to experience some of what he had, even if they did understand what he was going through, he didn’t want help. Asking for help felt impossible. It felt like admitting that he wasn’t strong enough to face everything on his own, and he <em>needed</em> to be strong enough. <em>I’m Harry Potter. I need to save everyone, I can’t… If I’m not strong enough to deal with everything, what am I? How can I possibly be expected to help others if I can’t even properly take care of myself?</em></p>
<p><em>Maybe they won’t realize what emotions I’ve been feeling. It only says extreme emotions, maybe it’s extreme happiness, or maybe I could tell them I’m just stressed out from school.</em> It would work. It had to work. He couldn’t let them know that anything was bothering him. <em>I hate to keep them shut out like this, but… I can’t let them know. I just can’t.</em></p>
<p>“Yeah, I have been a little bit.” He strained to keep his voice level, hoping it wouldn’t betray him.</p>
<p>“That could explain it then!” <em>She didn’t notice.</em> “If you can only properly contact them with intense emotions, it makes sense how the communication will fade in and out following your emotions!”  She chewed on her lip contemplatively before continuing, “so, I guess the best option is to somehow make you really emotional, and then you can try talking to the person from there.”</p>
<p>“‘Mione, you can’t just <em>force</em> emotions, it doesn’t work that way.”</p>
<p>“I know that, Ron! But it won’t hurt to try.”</p>
<p>“Uh, don’t I get a say in any of this?” Harry protested. </p>
<p>“No.” Hermione grinned at him. Ron snorted and Harry shot him a glare. </p>
<p>“Hermione, how are you even going to <em>make</em> me feel a certain way? I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.” He huffed and slid back in his chair, but the witch only stared at him incredulously. “What?”</p>
<p>“Harry, you can summon a patronus charm. I’m sure if you try thinking of positive memories in the same way, you’ll become happy enough for it to work.” <em>Oh. I guess that does make sense… What’s wrong with me lately? I’m forgetting everything.</em> “Once you’re able to contact them, try and hold onto them for awhile and ask some questions. Maybe we’ll be able to figure out who they are.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Okay. I’ll, uh, I guess I’ll try that, then.” He shut his eyes and attempted to organize his cluttered thoughts into something more positive. </p>
<p>“Oh, and by the way, Harry, one last thing. I’m not completely certain but all the records of mind-to-mind communication only happen when both people are soulmates. It’s some sort of rare magical connection system between intertwined souls.”</p>
<p>His eyes shot open. “I’m sorry, <em>what?</em> You couldn’t have thought to mention that before?”</p>
<p>“Come on Harry! That’s exciting! Isn’t that something you want to know? Plus, that already narrows it down to just girls, so if this person ends up being a Hogwarts student, we’ll be able to pinpoint her easier!”</p>
<p>“I guess, but that means there’s a lot of pressure! What if I made a bad impression? My <em>soulmate</em>?”</p>
<p>“Just focus. Everything will be alright.”</p>
<p>He did have to admit, the idea of a soulmate, especially one he could find this easily, was somewhat exciting. But they-- <em>or, I guess she? Yeah, of course it’s a girl. What am I thinking?</em>-- <em>she</em> might already think lowly of him because of the part of him she’d seen. How could he come back from that? <em>Well, I guess I’ll have to try.</em></p>
<p>He tried to relax back into his mind, but without him focusing on preventing them, negative memories and thoughts rose in place of positive ones. His mind struggled to combat them, push them down further. <em>I can’t think about those now. I don’t want to be sad, I want to be happy. For once, just let me be happy. Ron and Hermione are trying so hard right now to help me out. The least I can do is try my hardest with them.</em></p>
<p><em>Ron. Hermione.</em> He smiled as happy memories of his two best friends rose within him, old jokes from first year, late night study sessions, practicing spells in abandoned corridors. They’d been through so much. Sometimes it was difficult to be as close as they used to be, but they would still always have each other. One of his favorite memories slid into the forefront of his mind: Hermione wishing Ron and Harry luck before their first official quidditch match together. He focused as much as he could on the memory, what it looked like, the emotion it brought him, every single detail. </p>
<p>Something new washed over him, heightening his senses and accelerating his heartbeat. <em>It wasn’t like this last time… What’s happening?</em> His mind seemed to open up, and he felt an almost tangible connection to <em>something.</em></p>
<p>He took a deep breath. <em>Hello? I’m not sure if you can hear this or if I’m just thinking to myself. It’s me, from before. Are you there?</em></p>
<p>Harry’s heart pounded in anticipation as he awaited a response, but he was only met with silence. Silence until:</p>
<p>
  <em>Hello there.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey! Thank you as always for reading :) I'm really sorry for the (very) late chapter, but I tried to make it slightly longer to hopefully make up for it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a nice day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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